Wisdom and Corruption
by Amousca
Summary: Diablo I fanfiction. Has anyone of you never played the Rogue in D1, and felt frustrated that she is just evacuated of the storyline of D2? Well, I have, and so decided to write something about it.
1. Meeting in the dungeons

_So, as everything else has been said in the preview… all I have left to say is: I know it's short, but it's just the introduction and, please review:-)_

_**Wisdom and Corruption**_

Chapter I. Meeting in the dungeons

Liria edged carefully around the corner. Her bow was ready, and she fired an arrow almost before she had clearly made out a target, but her aim was true, and the arrow struck the skeleton's spine. It continued advancing, and she hurriedly walked back around the corner, taking a few steps back to have a little of space to fire another arrow as the skeleton turned, as forecast, and walked to her. It died, the third arrow breaking its spine.

Liria sighed and walked forward once more. Another skeleton came forward, this time accompanied by two of its ilk, and she walked back around her corner. It was taking her ages to go at this rate. But she could not risk close combat, and she was way too weak to just walk into a room and let everything hack at her. So she was patient. And precise in the aim of her arrows.

She was in the middle of one of the great halls of the cathedral, on the second level, on her way to find the Butcher's lair, swarmed by demons scattered all over she could not target together, when suddenly she heard a wild battlecry. This sound was human, no doubt. She half-turned, afraid to find herself stuck between a crazy human turned to the bad side, and a swarm of annoying demons.

The owner of the voice was a warrior, carrying a shield and short sword. His mid-long, brown hair was flying back in his charge, and he rushed past Liria to crash into one of the demons, sword rising and falling, rising again, red with blood.

Liria recovered from her surprise and fired at the demons that were the further away, or when he was crowded. When the last fell to a sword's blow, they both listened in silence, straining to hear any demon left, and when they were satisfied there was none, the warrior turned back to stare at Liria.

He was tall; he must have been a good foot taller than her; he wore a fine, if simple, leather tunic, now splattered over with demon's blood. He was rather young, although not as young as her.

"Well met, Rogue," he said, a quick, warm smile on his face. "I am Shurvi."

"Liria," she answered, with a smile too.

He walked forward, took her hand, not paying a bit of attention at the arrow she was still holding, and kissed it the traditional way. She laughed, seeing the mischief in his eyes.

"Shall you accompany me in this quest, fair lady?", he asked.

"Keep the fair ladies to the non-fighting sorts, please," she answered.

"Well, alright then, Red head! Let's go hack some demon to pieces!"

"Fine with me, Burnt head!"

He laughed, and she followed the brash warrior in his rush to the next hall.


	2. The Dark Exile

_Well, as the first chapter was really short, I posted this one soon. A little more of run-through-the-game than what I usually write, but not too much I hope. Thank you very much Aditu for your review - the first one here! hurray! Please keep reviewing everyone:)_

Chapter II. The Dark Exile

They found their way down the labyrinth. Shurvi took the front, and Liria covered for him with arrows and, occasionally, spells. As they descended the halls of the cathedral now turned into a dungeon, they found some equipment on the monsters that was worth keeping, and their skill increased. Shurvi was getting stronger and tougher; Liria's aim increased, as her mastery over magic. They learned to know each other's fighting style, and to trust each other with their lives.

They slept at Ogden's inn in adjacent rooms, and spent the little time they were not in the dungeon together, eating at the inn's table, or sitting by the river bank, or training together. It was a surprise to both how they just blended in together, becoming as one in their quest down the labyrinth. She avenged her disappeared parents, no doubt having suffered a gruesome fate of which she would never know of, with each demon she slew, or helped Shurvi to slay.

He fought with a less personal intent, just sharing her hatred of the demonkin without the need for any personal tragedy behind it. He had been raised a farmer by a modest family of a neighbour town, and he had entered military training with king Leoric's guard at the age of ten. He told Liria his love for the king, how sad it was to see him grow mad, and was the very reason he had chosen to go away and work as a mercenary for caravans and such. He had decided to come back when he had heard of Lachdanan placating Leoric; those were grave news, and he had felt his loyalty to his king demanded his return.

Liria told him of her raising here as a child, even showing him the ruins of her home one day, about a week after their meeting. She had pointed, looking the other way, turning her face away from him. He had seen the brilliant tears in her eyes, tears she quickly fought back, and he rested his hand on her shoulder for a minute. Then, they went back to training, and to fight demons within the dungeons of the cathedral.

They found and killed the Butcher, avenging the townspeople deaths. Shurvi jammed the Butcher into the doorway, while Liria freed a firewall under the demon's feet, and he stayed into the flames to burn to death just for the sadistic pleasure of sticking his cleaver through Shurvi's body. Shurvi had survived the battle, but had needed a few potions and a day of rest to recover. It was at the very beginning of their fight together, and it helped to cement their friendship that Liria stayed with him most of the day, taking care of him and sharing their past to distract him as time passed.

They were told of the poisoned wells and of king Leoric's curse. Shurvi's face grew grim as he heard the news of his beloved king cursed to undeath, and both warriors began their descent to the third level below the cathedral. They found Leoric's lair and freed him from his curse, a combination of sword swings, arrows and lightning laying his skeleton to rest. Shurvi swore to find his son, and Liria swore to help in the quest. They found the great underwater well, tainted by demons, and cleansed it of any evil that lurked within its corners.

Then, lower, they found a strange book. It was obviously ancient, although perfectly preserved, and written in craft and style that were strange and alien. The sheets of paper were thin and smooth, even feeling a little waxed, and the ink was so deep black that it would have been expected to show through, but it did not. Both warriors stopped before the book, Shurvi for once finding nothing to be brash about, and opened it.

"And so it came to be that there was a great revolution within the Burning Hells known as the Dark Exile. The lesser evils overthrew the Three Prime Evils and banished their spirit forms to the mortal realms. The demons Belial (the Lord of Lies) and Azmodan (the Lord of Sin) fought to claim rulership of Hell during the absence of the three brothers. All of Hell polarized between the factions of Belial and Azmodan, while the forces of the High Heaven continuously battered upon the very gates of Hell," it read.

Both were a little puzzled; Liria read it twice, memorizing it, and said they would talk to Cain about it, as soon as they were done retrieving Ogden's sign.

Cain had not much to say about the text, which was a little odd, as he always seemed to have an answer for everything. After their visit to Cain, their bath in their private rooms and their meal together, they were not thinking about it anymore.


	3. Most tragic 6th level

_So, here the story gets a little more substance. Again, thank you for the reviews, and please keep posting what you think of what I write._

Chapter III. Most tragic 6th level

They went down, always further down into the labyrinth, and to their surprise, the appearance of the next level was different than the others; here the floor and walls were not paved with blue-grey slate, but were of barren earth, with only a few pillars to support the structure.

"The smell of death surrounds us," Shurvi remarked.

"These must be the catacombs. The cathedral used to be a Monastery."

Shurvi nodded, and they started forward, in their natural battle order. Liria renewed her mana shield, and began walking a little off to his side, ready to strike with her arrows and spells without risk of hurting him in the process.

Shurvi walked carefully forward, his shield held up and ready, his sword risen, ready to strike. Liria followed, a little to the side, an arrow notched on her bow. They soon met a group of toad demons, which Shurvi lured behind a corner as was their usual tactics, and Liria started to fire arrows at blinding speed as they came forward, Shurvi just in front of her and a little to the side, ready to pounce down upon the first demon that came within range.

The first toad demon of a dozen came close. Shurvi fully stepped in front of Liria and started hacking at the beast, while the archer was retreating behind and to the side, and made a firewall against the wall in the trail they were all walking. Then she resumed firing arrows with deadly aim.

The battle was soon over. The day of battle was going well; they were advancing at a steady pace, not taking too much hits, and both gaining experience in the way of fighting. Then they reached a large open area, and both stopped, seeing it was completely empty of demons.

"Something is amiss," Liria stated.

"Well, let's find it!", Shurvi exclaimed bravely, although he held his shield and sword ready in a tight grip as he walked forward.

She followed just behind, careful and attentive, and suddenly they were leapt at by all sides, in close range. They were immediately separated as a swarm of hidden monsters suddenly appeared in their sight, hitting at them with razor claws. It was the first time they met the hidden beasts, and they were caught totally off-guard.

Shurvi discovered with a little relief that the beasts were not so hardy, falling easily enough to his sword, although he could not dodge all their hits, surrounded as he was. He heard Liria's arrows flying and her grunts of pain behind him, but could not turn to make out her situation.

She was firing arrows, when suddenly she realized that Charged bolts would deal a lot of damage in a compact fray like that. She raised her hands and cast the Charged bolts in a frenetic spray all around her, and saw with horror bolts colliding with others, still hidden monsters. Her mana was going down rapidly, and her mastery over her spells was weakening, the problem being worse because of the Mana shield. But she slew a good dozen of the hidden before she ran out of mana, and she resumed firing arrows, the fray much less crowded than before.

Shurvi was quickly overcoming his lasts opponents, then he turned to assist Liria, rushing for all he could through the remaining demons to reach her and offer cover in close range. She was raining a series of arrows with deadly speed and aim at her surrounding enemies, not wasting an arrow on a fallen enemy, knowing before the arrow hit if it would be sufficient to kill or not. Her impressive display of skill was a sight to behold. Then he saw, because of his martial training, a hit that she was not predicting.

"To your left!", he screamed, breaking into a run, bashing aside the last hidden he was fighting.

She reacted quickly, so very quickly, turning her head to see what was going on, her bow already shifting its aim, but it was too late. One of the hidden took its claws from the run-up they had, and crashed with all its might against her left arm, the one holding the bow.

Shurvi saw it all as he ran. He saw her face contort with pain, her broken arm letting her bow fall on the floor, the spill of blood from the bone breaking through the skin, and her staggering step backwards, into the arms of five other waiting hidden monsters. Then she appeared to regain control of herself and drank a mana potion.

She cast a single lightning before he came within range of the demons and started to swing his sword through the mass of the demons. After her only spell, he heard nothing else but grunts of pain from the place where she had collapsed, kicked over by hidden in their frenetic attempts to battle him and to kill her at the same time.

He was done felling them all in less than a minute. Then, he threw brutally the corpses of the demons away from her, as she was half buried under them. She was gritting her teeth and holding her arm, putting good pressure on the well of blood, her fingers between the shards of broken bone. Shurvi quickly assessed her state.

"Let's get you to Pepin," he said.

She answered nothing, her breathing coming in low rasps, controlling the pain. He stood, and opened a portal. He hated magic scrolls, and he was always happy when Liria was dealing with them, but right now he did not give it an ounce of thought. The portal opened. Shurvi knelt besides Liria, still lying on the ground on her back, and gathered her in his arms.

She found the force then to laugh. "So this is why you called me "fair lady" at first, so you could carry me around in your arms like my knight in shining armour?", she asked, pain not leaving her eyes for a second.

Shurvi smiled down at her, standing up with amazing ease despite the considerable weight of her and her gear in his arms, and said: "I might like that."

Then he crossed the portal, and she forgot what he had said, as the pain seared in her arm from the magical transport. He started to walk as quickly and as gently as possible towards Pepin's house. The whole village got pretty agitated as he crossed the central square, carrying one of the two Heroes of Tristram to be healed. Pepin gasped as he saw the fountain of blood dripping between her fingers to the ground, and the shattering of the bone. He silently gestured Shurvi to carry her in, and to lay her down upon a high table obviously designed to treat the injured, in the middle of what seemed to be the healer's kitchen.

The warrior let down Liria gently, then was shoved away rudely enough by Pepin as he claimed he needed space to work. Shurvi looked at Liria's face, and since she did not seem to notice if he was there or not, lost in the pain and loss of blood, he got out, and let Pepin heal her.

He went to sit with Farnham, and shared a drink with the man. He listened in silence to the slur babbling of the poor man, victim to his fears and traumas, not able to face life after he had faced demons within the labyrinth. He had been too weak to affront it, and he fled through drinking. Shurvi knew he was not that kind of man to turn away from his fears. He stood up to them, looked them in the eye and killed them. But he felt sympathy for Farnham nevertheless, because he had been struck with fear when he had seen the Butcher and his chamber of torture, yet he had a lot more experience of fighting behind him than did this simple townsmen when he had followed Lazarus into the labyrinth.

Shurvi was taken out of his reverie rather abruptly as Pepin's door opened again. He shot to his feet quicker than he cared to admit, and sighed a deep, so very deep sigh of relief when he saw Liria walk out of Pepin's home. She seemed shaky and pale, leaning on the healer as he helped her to walk, but she was up on her feet and in one piece. More or less. Her arm was bandaged, splintered and held to her chest with a cloth that went around her neck.

"Glad to you see alright," Shurvi said as he walked to her.

"Thanks to you," she said.

"You could say that," Shurvi admitted with a sly smile. "Although, thanks to Pepin too."

She smiled, and he literally took her arm from Pepin's grip as he started to help her to walk to the inn. She would surely need to rest now. Pepin tried to walk around them to instruct them to rest for a prescribed number of days, to come on a number of occasions to check on how the bones were coming together, and to change her bandage. Shurvi just told he would do this, and that, and yes, of course, no problem, until he crossed the door of the inn and Pepin was left behind.

"It was a hidden that hit me?", she asked then.

"Yes," he answered, resisting an urge to stop, knowing she had to made an effort to walk, and not wanting to make it any more difficult. "You don't remember?"

"Well… yes, I do. But it is a little fuzzy, and very confused. I remember dropping my bow, thinking the only chance I had now was spells, and fumbling for a potion… beyond that, trying endless times to cast a spell, but I'm not sure if I managed one. After, I feel too weak and too in pain to remember."

"You did, Red head. You cast a chain lightning before they pulled you down."

She nodded. Then she did not remembered teasing him. And not his answer. He helped her to walk to her room, and he thought maybe it was better that she did not remember. They would go on fighting together, and everything would be as it was.

He helped her to her bed. There she just lay on her back, in her leather armour dirtied with demon blood and gore, and closed her eyes.

"I am so tired. I'll change and wash tomorrow." She pulled her injured arm up on her chest, and thanked him for helping her to her room.

He went out wordlessly, closing gently the door on the sight of his already sleeping friend.


	4. The Adventure Must Go On

_Thank you, BloodHeron and Aditu, for your reviews. (I can't say how many times I've said this already, but it's still true! Thank you!)_

_Aditu: Comment in chap1: well, the slow walk of the hero IS maddening… but I played D1 back when it was released, and before the fantastic boots of speed of D2, so… I recently replayed it and was so fed up walking around and getting hacked at that I just installed a good old "God mode" hack lol, when I came up with the idea of this story. Just to read the tomes again and see the game through the end now that I can actually understand English. Comment on chap 3: hm… read on._

_BloodHeron: On walk-through-ish: it was my calculation that not many people here actually played D1 (unlike, for instance, BG2, of which conventional run-through-the-game stories rain in all places (yep, even tried one once myself…)) and so I could be "allowed" to write one. I'll still try to make it more than an account of game events, however._

_So, here goes. This is kind of a two-part chapter, and it's rather short; I can't help writing short chapters for this story at the moment, it seems._

Chapter IV. The adventure must go on

It took Liria three days before she was able to use her hand again, and another day before she could remotely efficiently fire an arrow. Shurvi spent a lot of time distracting her as she had done for him before.

Shurvi also took a while to think some things through, which was uncharacteristically self-analytic of him – must be the Red head's influence, he mused to himself. The morning following their ambush by hidden found him standing at the window of his room, looking through the thick, tainted glass; Ogden could not pay for glass of a better quality even for his finest rooms. So Shurvi stood there, bathed in the bright and warm morning sun, trying to figure out what he would do now.

He sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. He acknowledged to himself that he was growing attracted to her. He knew what he felt for her was not burning passion or perfect love, but judging from his experience, the first one never led very far, and the second never happened. Still, she was cute, she was bright, and she was a fighter. He had never fought besides women before; this one was skilled and courageous, twice worth now the better archer he had ever known. And she had a way to answer to his brash manners with mischief of her own, and it was endearing to him to be called "Burnt head".

Shurvi felt something very peculiar then; he slowly obeyed an unseemly desire to lift his head, and then he thought he understood why he must look outside. Glooming in the warm morning sun across the field and first trees of the nearby forest was the entrance to the catacombs. A grim expression settled on his face, with a fierce determination in his heart. Now was not the time. Not in the middle of this mess of a seemingly endless maze of downward-spiralling dungeons crowded with demons. It was hardly possible to consider anything else than their quest now. Shurvi trusted her and she was his friend; but anything more emotional than that required time and involvement, and he was not at ease among those concerns. He was just a warrior, worse yet, a soldier, and he had never been seriously involved with anyone. And somehow… somehow Liria seemed to deserve more than the half-hearted attention he could give her now.

Shurvi sighed again. Maybe afterwards, if they found a way to stay together, but not right now.

The previous day, he had been taken by surprise. He had been startled by the ambush, impressed by her skill, worried by her injuries; he had talked too fast, but this mistake had already been erased of her memory. And, to be perfectly honest, he was not sure he would have talked if she had not been in so much pain in the first place.

And so the matter was settled. It was surprisingly easy to fall into that path of behaviour and justification, he found. He distracted her while she recovered, walked her to Pepin so he could check on her arm, trained a while with her as she was getting used to flying arrows with her new arm, and they headed down once more.

ooooo

They found Arkaine's valour in one of the catacombs. Both stared in silence at the magnificent armour, as Liria finished to identify it. They had split up the spoils easily up to this point. There they stood in silence, knowing how both wanted very badly this powerful armour. Finally, Shurvi shrugged the matter off.

"I guess we will find heavier armour soon," he said. "We have been finding more powerfully equipped monsters in these levels. A heavier armour would be of no use to you, and you need the boost of your vitality more than I do."

She looked at him, considering refusing or discussing for a while, then she accepted his gift, smiling almost as bashfully as him.

"Thank you, Burnt head. Can you help me to put it on? I've never wore a chain mail before."

He smiled, and moved to help her strap the armour on. He stood behind her as he straightened the straps of the part covering her chest, as she buckled on the bracers. He let her adjust the hip straps and such, while he adjusted the legs. Once his work was done, he straightened up. He looked at her.

"You look formidable in that, Red head," he said, really impressed.

"Well I'm still the same me, so I'll still only be following behind you and not take any hit… except in cases of failure of tactics, in which case my Mana shield will take the hits… except in extreme cases where I would end up on Pepin's torture bed. See, nothing formidable, Burnt head."

He smiled, and they went out of the crypt guarding Arkaine's valour back to the catacombs.


	5. The Sin War

_Hello again! Here… little longer chapter._

_Aditu: well, no, it's not one of those "one-true-love" stories. Far from it, but since you haven't played D1, I'll let you hang on the suspense ;-)_

_BloodHeron: Arkaine's Valour is a ring mail you get in one of the quests in the catacombs. In many games it's the first armour you meet that will change the character's appearance – in D1, there were 3 looks for each class, and so Burnt Head's line of "look formidable in that" was kind of a joke for that. What's more interesting of this armour however, is what you gather from people in town. Cain the storyteller of Tristram (later to be discovered as the last of the Horadrim…) tells you of the story of Arkaine, the mortal who wore this armour. Legend has it that he was the first mortal to battle demons and chased them back to the gates of Hell. Gillian, the sweet barmaid, will tell you how she likes this story of Arkaine and his armour Valour. And that's about all you hear of the armour, at least what I can put out of memory now (the witch Adria must have had something interesting and wise to say, but I can't remember), but it's powerful enough for that level of the labyrinth._

_You know, it's really funny to be writing this as though everyone already knows the end… that really is my attitude when I write it… but I realize that not that many people coming here actually played D1. Lol, maybe I'll try to incorporate some sense of suspense as I go then._

_(Another behind the scene for later in this chapter: the Anvil of Fury is a quest given to you by the smith, Griswold (remember the really, really tough guy in red from D2's Tristram? Well, that's what the corruption will turn him into). Cain, the storyteller (and the liar… he really is despicable enough in D1, and so I couldn't quite resist blaming him a bit in Archangels learn) will tell you that it is the Anvil of the smiths of Hell, telling you quite a tale of how it was made with the skulls of the most powerful magi of the Underworld and so on. Gillian again remembers fondly Cain's stories and tells you that the name comes from the fact that the ground shakes in anger when the Anvil of Fury is used. I always wondered if the Hellforge of D2 was actually the same Anvil of Fury? It would have made a nice closure by the game developers if they had hinted towards that, since the anvil was clearly won back by the forces of evil, judging by the state Tristram is in when Hero reaches it in D2.)_

_Enough babble for now. On with the chapter._

Chapter V. The Sin War

Lower, they found another book with the same alien fabric as the one entitled the Dark Exile. This one was called the Sin War.

"Many demons travelled to the mortal realm in search of the three brothers. These demons were followed to the mortal plane by angels who hunted them throughout the vast cities of the East. The angels allied themselves with a secretive order of mortal magi, named the Horadrim, who quickly became adept at hunting demons. They also made many dark enemies in the underworlds," Liria read.

"This is frustrating, information coming in droplets," Shurvi stated, looking bored rather than frustrated.

"And I've never studied history. I have no idea if "Horadrim" is a name that should ring a bell, or if the vast cities of the East remember what happened to them during the freedom of the famous and nameless "three brothers". What do they look like and what do they do anyway?"

Shurvi shrugged. "I don't know. I wonder why we're finding this book _here_. Do you think the people of the Monastery kept many books in these parts?"

"That doesn't seem likely. Moreover, this doesn't look like an ordinary book; maybe it is of the demons, not of the Monastery."

Both paused, puzzled at this new idea and its implications.

"Then why would they keep a book talking about ages-old history of the Prime Evils?", Shurvi asked slowly.

"Maybe they are trying to… to find them? I don't know what's a Prime Evil, are they even alive still?"

They stayed in silence a little more, thinking hard on the matter, before they finally turned, and headed downstairs, having nothing else to do about the matter.

The next place was again different; this time it was not human-carved catacombs, but rather a natural cave, with wells of red fire in some places. The smell of sulphur was overwhelming at first, and it stung their eyes.

"It's hot down here," Liria noted.

They had time to say nothing else, because battle was upon them.

ooooo

Cain had nothing to say about that part of the book either, which was even more odd. Both warriors shrugged it off and went to Griswold to trade items, and look what he had for sale. He told them of the Anvil of Fury, and told them to bring it to him if they ever found it. They agreed to his request, and went to the inn to rest.

As was their habit, they went upstairs to their rooms to wash and change, then they gave their clothes to Gilian, and their armour to a stable boy. Gilian washed the clothes, and the stable boy cleaned the armours. They took care of their weapons themselves, or occasionally brought them to Griswold to repair them. After their bath, they headed downstairs and relaxed a while, after which they took dinner. Then, they either trained or went to sleep.

Shurvi, as usual, was the first one in the tavern. He smiled as she neared their usual table, thinking how much she was part of his life right now, how he was in a strange routine with her, as though fighting demons was just the usual occupation for young people.

"Hey Red head," he saluted her.

"Hey Burnt head," she answered, sitting in front of him. "There is supposed to be a bard playing tonight. He says he comes from the Far East."

"You'd like to watch the show?", Shurvi asked.

"Well, maybe, if he's any good."

Shurvi nodded, and they agreed to wait for the show to begin before asking for their food. They chatted quietly until the bard arrived and set the scene. He was tall, and his skin was deeply tanned. He also wore strange clothes, like they were too big for him, and strapped at the wrists and ankles. He started to sing the tales of his country, strange tales of the East, of the beauty of the stars at night over the sand, of their light-footed horses, of the hypnotizing dance of the women, of the tombs of great men hidden under the sand.

Everyone listened intently at him; he was indeed talented, and his music was one no one had ever heard before. After his tales were done, he started to improvise for pays from the public, and did so with cunning as Ogden paid him to praise his wife.

Liria saw Shurvi coming, but there was nothing she thought of doing that would stop him without being even more embarrassing to her. She saw the warrior stand, and slowly walk towards the bard. Then, he tossed a few gold pieces to the man.

"Here, bard! What say you of my travelling companion, Tristram's favourite red head?"

The bard smiled ruefully, seeing the intent of Shurvi, and Liria's embarrassment at her companion's outing. The bard was quick to understand they were not together, just travelling so.

He started pinching a few of the cords of his strange instrument, producing a slightly discordant melody, much less gracious than the one he had used for Ogden's wife. Then he started to say how beautiful and gracious she was, and even talked of her bowskill – must have seen her coming in the tavern with her weapons and armour. Then, although no one but Shurvi and Liria understood, he said that Arkaine would have been proud to see his armour worn so, and he concluded slyly that the least of her heroic actions was surely not to put up with her travelling companion everyday.

The tavern roared with laughter as the joke was suddenly turned back to Shurvi, although Shurvi and Liria were still a little stunned at the idea of a bard that could guess she was wearing Arkaine's Valour. They had a chance to speak to him afterwards, and he told them that he had studied history for a long time in the Far East, and that what was almost-forgotten history here was known as yesterday in the East, and that what was completely forgotten here, was still remembered and written in tombs' walls in the desert. He said it is in this way that he knew of Arkaine's Valour look, and that is how he had known it was what she was wearing.

"Oh, I think of something," Liria suddenly said, growing greatly excited. "If you know of past history so well, maybe you can tell us something about a book we found in the cathedral."

She then recited the texts of the Dark Exile and of the Sin War. He listened intently, and finally said:

"I know little besides what you already read. This history is even older than Arkaine. This is before the Sin War turned upon the humans, it is at the very beginning, when it was angels themselves that chased the demons. The little I can tell you is the name of the Seven great evils, the Four Lesser and the Three Prime. There are Andarielle, Maiden of Anguish, Duriel, Lord of Pain, Belial, Lord of Lies, and Azmodan, Lord of Sin, the Four Lesser Evils. There are Mephisto, Lord of Hatred, Baal, Lord of Destruction, and Diablo, Lord of Terror, also the king of Hell, the Three Prime Evils. I know of the Three Prime Evils being captured in a way or another, and disappearing from the face of Sanctuary. My knowledge stops there."

"You do not know of the Horadrim?", Liria insisted.

"Not much. They have tombs somewhere in the desert, it is said, lost monuments to their greatness, but it is long ruined and lost. I know not who they were besides that they were, in the legend, the builders of these tombs, that we do not even know if they ever existed."

Liria nodded. "Thank you for sharing your knowledge."

"Thanks to you to recite me yet another bit of history. I will remember it, and retell it, thinking of the charming young woman wearing Arkaine's Valour that told it to me."

The bard smiled, and left their table. They looked at each other, sharing silently their mutual disappointment. So promising, but they had not learned much, after all.


	6. The Binding of the Three

_Thank you for the reviews. Nearing the end of the game in this chapter. I hope I'm setting things right and am not ruining my effect or not saying enough so that no one will see anything coming. Hopefully this bit of babbling will make your eyes more alert ;-)_

_Aditu: I'm afraid I gave away many spoilers for D1 in this story. The whole point of D1 is discovering the scope of the evil hiding (sinister voice) deep down in the labyrinth. As for Shurvi and Liria… we'll see about that in the next chapter! ;-p_

_BloodHeron: good hunt._

_Background info for this chapter: Lazarus is the "bastard" that led the townsfolk into a trap, which you learn at the beginning of the game, and that made so many brave people die at the hands of the Butcher. At the end of this battle, Griswold saw him running further down into the labyrinth, and he did not reappear since. He also happened to be a councillor to king Leoric before he turned mad/undead._

Chapter V. The Binding of the Three

The very next day, they found yet another book. This one was the Binding of the Three.

"So it came to be that the three Prime Evils were banished in spirit form to the mortal realm, and after sewing chaos across the East for decades, they were hunted down by the cursed order of the mortal Horadrim. The Horadrim used artefacts called Soulstones to contain the essence of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred, and his brother Baal, the Lord of Destruction. The youngest brother – Diablo, the Lord of Terror – escaped to the West.

"Eventually the Horadrim captured Diablo within a Soulstone as well, and buried him under an ancient, forgotten cathedral. There, the Lord of Terror sleeps and awaits the time of his rebirth. Know ye that he will seek a body of youth and power to possess – one that is innocent and easily controlled. He will then arise to free his brothers, and once more fan the flames of the Sin War," Liria read, while Shurvi looked over her shoulder.

"Sounds bad," Shurvi suddenly realized, his features darkening.

"What?", Liria said, as she was reading it twice to memorize it.

"The West would be around Westmarch and Khanduras, wouldn't it?", he asked. "Considering that the East was around where the bard was from. And we have both our feet in an ancient, forgotten cathedral…", Shurvi said, pointing to the words on the page, "… with evil plaguing its every corner. Evil of a greater magnitude than I have seen during all my training and the last year as a mercenary. Shouldn't we beginning to think that something down here is a serious threat? Like, for instance, Diablo, the Lord of Terror, king of Hell, himself?"

Both paused, uneasy.

"A body of youth and power to possess," Liria suddenly stated.

"What?", Shurvi asked.

"That could be Albrecth – the youth – or Lazarus – the power. Don't you think?"

Shurvi suddenly grew pale. "This is… terrible."

"That would explain Leoric's madness," Liria said, kindly, her hand on Shurvi's arm.

He freed his arm a little rudely, staring sideways at her with an annoyed expression. He did not need to be comforted. What was she thinking, looking at him as though she pitied him? "I will not believe my king fallen in this way," he declared haughtily.

She bristled. "You heard him as much as I did saying that if we fell, we would serve _his_ master for all eternity. I am not saying he fell without a fight, or as a coward, or anything! How could he be expected to resist the power of a Prime Evil that possessed his son?"

Shurvi's big shoulders slumped. This labyrinth was not doing him any good. He knew he was more jumpy and more irritable with each day they spent down here. But she was his friend, and she did not deserve his harshness when she was trying to be nice to him. And he admitted to himself that he needed some kindness – _her_ kindness – these days. "I am sorry, Liria, I… didn't mean to be rude to you," he apologized.

Instantly, he relaxed. He noticed that his heart had been taken into a cold grip as he felt it being eased by his apology and his realization that she was being kind to him. He could not say how long this grip had been there, because he had not been aware of it before it was gone. His body and soul filled with a strange warmth from the inexplicable release.

Liria, oblivious to his internal turmoil, only knew that her heart jumped suddenly as he said her name. It was the first time he said it as he addressed her; generally, he used her name when he was talking about her to other people, but he called her "Red head". She was surprised at the sudden use of her name, and it felt strange… intimate. She pushed the thought aside, and put her hand back on his shoulder.

"Alright," he said at length. "That's way too probably just exactly how it happened. Let's find the son of a bitch and give him the sword in the heart he deserves."

"Arrow in the eye if you please," she answered, a wicked smile crossing her face.

"Both. And add a few painful burning spells on top of that, Red head. I'll even strain my eyes on a magic book if we find one, to add into the fray."

"Good Burnt head. Now don't you go rushing into a pack of demons before I can follow you because you're getting excited."

Shurvi smiled crookedly. "Fine. Let's go."

ooooo

"We must be getting close," Shurvi observed, looking around warily, as they stepped foot on the first floor of the hells hidden deep, deep below the cathedral.

Liria winced. "Yes. Best be careful."

Shurvi marched forward.

ooooo

Their quest together had started as a skeleton-killing campaign, but had turned out to be much longer, much darker, and much more complicated than expected.

They had killed the Butcher, freed King Leoric from his curse, purified the wells, found Ogden's sign, dealt with Gharbad the Weak and Zhar the Mad, found a magic rock for Griswold, retrieved Arkaine's Valour, entered and exited the Chamber of Bone, survived the Halls of the Blind, found a black mushroom for Adria and ended up with Pepin's elixir, brought the Anvil of Fury to Griswold, battled the Warrior of Blood, and freed Lachdanan from his curse as a death knight.

They had learned to know each other, they had grown in power, they had almost died a few times each one of them. They trusted each other with their lives. They were together in this fight, and there was no other way, for neither of them.

There they stood, looking at a beautiful staff mounted on a vile altar. The altar was looking so foul that neither of them dared to touch it, afraid it was trapped or poisoned or something. Finally, Liria extended her hand and removed the staff.

"Someone in town will know what it is," Liria said.

"Cain, probably," Shurvi added.

They nodded, finishing to clear off this part of hell. They found a big, strange pentagram on the floor, which neither dared tread on. After, they took a town portal back to town. Cain knew what was the sceptre. He told them who he was. The last of the Horadrim. He also confirmed their suspicions that it was Diablo, the dark Lord of Terror, imprisoned beneath the cathedral, which he was to guard. He had not believed the old legends and not seen the signs of Diablo's awakening. And finally, he told them of Lazarus's disappearance, and how likely it was that he wished to sacrifice Albrecth to his new master. Shurvi swore to free the boy if he could, in the name of Leoric's memory and shameful fall. Liria agreed, saying they would stop Lazarus and save Albrecth, in the name of all that is holy.

They returned down to the pentagram, and this time Liria approached, and her now great knowledge of magic allowed her to open a portal with it.

"Well, Red head, time to show the bastard a lesson," Shurvi said between gritted teeth.

He did not feel the cold grip settling again over his heart, as this grip was a most vicious one, and knew what moment of the mental preparation for the battle use to its advantage.

Liria felt some sudden uneasiness at Shurvi's harshness, but she remembered he had loved his king. So she declared: "Fine with me, Burnt head. Let's get Albrecth out of his clutches."

They stepped through the portal. They were teleported to another area, hidden deep within the cathedral. Liria reeled suddenly, and Shurvi caught her arm.

"Very foul magic at work here," she just said, regaining focus, and aiming carefully forward.

He nodded, acknowledging, and marched forward. Liria killed the succubus hidden between gates with defiant arrows. They were in a strange chamber, full of secret passages and magical devices designed to teleport them to other parts of the chamber and bring down concealing walls. It was not the first time they faced demons and strange artefacts. So, without paying too much attention to their surroundings beyond the usual and necessary caution, they stepped together on the various teleporting devices, touching the book together and appearing together in a new place. They did so twice, and once they were done killing the last succubus, Shurvi asked:

"Where to now?"

Liria thought for a while. "We should try the one we took to get here."

Shurvi shrugged. More often than ever, her intuitions in the ways of magic were right. They made their way to it, and stepped together on it, assuring their synchronisation by holding arms-up-arms-down, and counting together.

And they landed in the middle of a place crowded with demons. There was the Archbishop Lazarus, of course, and two very powerful succubus; it was obvious just by the aura of evil they were emitting. A boy was on a bloody altar, his insides exposed in torture. Shurvi and Liria slowly stood back to back, seeing the swarm of other succubus behind. Liria whispered "Bone spirit each". Shurvi made no sign of acknowledgment, thinking better not to attract attention, but grateful that she would weaken them greatly in this way. They listened to Lazarus, whose eyes were as red as a demon's, telling them to abandon their foolish quest, and to bow before his master, or to die.

"I will not lay down at your feet to die," Liria said defiantly.

"I will stop you!", Shurvi yelled, and he charged Lazarus.

Liria shot a Bone spirit his way, then one at the two powerful succubus, then she got down on one knee, gulping a mana potion quickly, the blood star of the demons piercing through her, and cast a mana shield. Then she summoned a Guardian, and started to fire arrows to go with the hydra's balls of fire.

Shurvi saw the terrifying skull-shaped ghost fly past him and bury itself in Lazarus' chest. The advocate staggered backwards under the impact, but quickly regained control and began firing fireballs at Shurvi, even before the warrior had finished his charge. He wore a ring that granted him great fire resistance, and he could deflect most of the damage with his shield, so the fireballs were not doing much good to Lazarus. Shurvi reached him and had the time to swing his sword and embed it once in the heavy breastplate before the bastard teleported away. Shurvi grunted in frustration, turning around, looking where he was gone, and saw Liria's arrow bury itself in his neck; he was not dead yet, and she was firing more arrows. She was victim to his fireballs, standing motionless in the middle of the room, but the spells did nothing but make her mana shield flare with white fire magic.

"Take the succubus, they don't run!", she screamed, notching arrow after arrow and letting it fly true to its target.

Shurvi obeyed without a sound, running to the closest powerful succubus, killing her with three slashes of his sword across her neck; he wondered how he was unable to behead her with only one hit. He heard Lazarus's cry of death, and immediately an arrow flew over his shoulder to hit the hand of the succubus next to him. The demoness lost the Blood star she was summoning with her raised hand and cursed.

Liria really was a fast firer. He was often grateful for that.

Shurvi modified his tactic for her. He thrust his sword straight through her gut, and sliced half her waist as he pulled his sword out. She tumbled to the floor, gurgling sounds of blood in her throat, as he turned towards the next succubus.

He slashed his way through the rest of them, and watched the last one go down with smug satisfaction.

"Back to hell, bitches," he said low.

Then he turned, and he saw Liria. She was down on one knee, her bow dropped by her side, her hands and faced peeled off from the heat of Lazarus' fireballs, her heated armour burning her still. She was not letting out a single sound.

His jaw dropped. He was not totally aware of what he did in the next few seconds, floating through a strange haze. He dashed towards her. She was shaking, her whole body very rigid. He opened a healing potion and poured it upon her face and hands. She screamed, but instantly the burns looked less brilliant red, and it was obvious now that she would survive.

The mist in Shurvi's mind dissipated. He frowned, not interrupting his moves, and finished to open the healing potion he had in his hand. He could not possibly have been worried enough to partially blank out like that. She was seriously injured, that much was true, but he knew she would be fine. He shook his head, pushing the matter aside, and handed her the potion.

"Drink this, Red head," he said, gently touching her face. She grunted again as his fingers touched her face, but she drank the potion quickly. Instantly the worst of the burns disappeared, all but her fingers that were still cut deeply from the burns and the string of her bow.

"Another one, Red head," he ordered, handing her the potion.

"I wasn't about to protest, Burnt head," she answered, downing the other potion as well.

Then, she was back to health. She opened a potion of full mana this time, and drank it down. Then she took her bow from the ground.

"Feeling better now," she said.

"I see that," he said.

She stood, and on impulsion, he squeezed her shoulder.

"Next time don't let yourself burn to death, Burnt head yourself," he admonished, letting go of her. "Call me and I'll let my shield take the heat."

"He would just have teleported again, further away."

Shurvi sighed. "Maybe, Red head, but as long as he was busy teleporting away from me, he wasn't firing anything at you!"

She blushed slightly, and shrugged, admitting defeat, at least. "Let's see what Cain has to say about… this."

She was looking at Lazarus' body, and her eyes surveyed the group of succubus dead, the two among them most powerful, and finally, the boy who had been tortured and sacrificed.

"It is not Albrecth," Shurvi told her.

"I wish we could at least bury him properly," she said darkly.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and turned her away gently. "Let's see what Cain has to say."

She nodded, and opened a portal. They both stepped through.


	7. Facing a Prime Evil

_Hello!_

_Mikldud: I wanted to answer to you via email because of spoilers, but since you're unregistered, oh well. I know what happens to the warrior, and… it's written in this chapter here. Also, I remember, now that you mention it, the Blood Raven business. But I'm not writing Blood Raven. As for the sorcerer… errr… I let him for someone else to write… I have no inspiration for him, sorry._

_TheOnlyOne20001: Thank you for your reviews :)_

_So, here is the end of this story. I had not planned to finish it quite so quickly, but here the end is. A sequel_ is _underway though. Please, review and let me know what you think!_

Chapter VII. Facing a Prime Evil

"Your story is quite grim, my friends," Cain answered after they told him what had happened. "Lazarus will surely burn in hell for his horrific deed. Even if the boy is not our prince, I believe that Albrecht may yet be in danger. The symbol of power that you speak of must be a portal in the very heart of the labyrinth. Know this, my friends – the evil that you move against is the dark Lord of Terror. He is known to mortal men as Diablo. It was he who was imprisoned within the labyrinth many centuries ago and I fear that he seeks to once again sow chaos in the realm of mankind. You must venture through the portal and destroy Diablo before it is too late."

"Just that," Shurvi said, darkly.

"It must be done!", Cain protested. "You both have great power, we can all see it. You are our only hope."

"Facing one of the Prime Evils?", Liria said, unbelieving. "I sure can aim an arrow, but between that and killing the king of Hells, there's a step higher I'm not sure I can climb."

Cain sighed, looking at the young man and woman before him. "Diablo is surrounded by his most powerful minions, which will not be especially less powerful than him. If you have managed to walk up to his very chamber, I do not think you are totally helpless before him."

There was a silence. Finally, it was Shurvi who said: "Fine. Either we die fighting him, or we die fleeing him. I better die fighting."

There was another silence. He was looking straight at Liria, and Cain felt totally alien to the intense, meaningful stare they were exchanging. Finally, she swallowed hard, and declared. "Very well. We will attempt it. I can always have a teleport and a town portal ready."

That night, they were utterly silent in a corner of Ogden's tavern. They were picking at their food without any enthusiasm. Liria was feeling a little unsettled still by the events of the day – finding Lazarus, almost frying to death from his fireballs, seeing a young boy dead of torture, sacrificed to Diablo. She looked up from her plate to Shurvi. Sensing her regard, he lifted his eyes also, and they looked into each other's eyes for a while, still in their complete silence. She wondered what he thought. Finally, he lowered his eyes, but put a hand on her arm, thinking maybe she needed reassurance. She did. They both saw how much they communicated even without words, and kept staring at each other in silence for a while longer.

Then, Gilian came to give them more water, and was struck at how intimate they were suddenly as they jumped when she came closer. She had not expected to interrupt anything, since they were just there in their usual corner, not saying much as was usual, and looking weary as was also usual.

"Thank you, Gilian," Liria said with an earnest smile as the barmaid gave them more water.

"You're welcome," she responded with her good-natured smile.

Shurvi noticed it was the first time he heard her voice of the whole night; she had not even commanded her food, just nodding at Gilian's question if she wanted "the usual". There was a longer silence as they both picked a little more intently at their food, finally eating something, and then the meal was over. Both looked at each other, unsure of what to do, and finally went upstairs to their rooms.

Their parting seemed strange to both. They went to their rooms, separately, and prepared to sleep. Liria lay down on her bed to try to sleep. She kept staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened to her parents, and if the same would happen to her. She closed her eyes against the tears, and decided it would not do to torment her spirit with that all night long, that it would not put her in fighting form for the next day.

She got out of bed, and slid on her leather tunic, although she did not wear the leggings. She pulled her boots on, and stepped besides her bed. There she hesitated, but she was not about to reconsider lying down to mortify herself until she died out of fear, was she?

There she stopped, halting in the middle of her move of pulling on her second boot. It dawned on her that, Diablo being the Lord of Terror, it was possible that he was reaching to the town to cause fear to everyone, and it was also possible that he pushed the terror onto them as well. What Cain had said was probably true; they had killed the Archbishop, surely one of the most powerful mortals in his time, and probably even more powerful once turned to Darkness. She was a little reassured by the realization that maybe she did not _need_ to fear Diablo because he was a demon, but causing them to fear him was a way to ensure his safety.

She opened the door, and walked down the hall towards Shurvi's door. A servant girl was there, cleaning the floor, and for a minute Liria was embarrassed to be seen going to his room. But she pushed the embarrassment aside, and knocked.

He opened the door quickly enough, bare chest and only in trousers, looking at her from his half-opened door. His look was grave, and as it was between them, he understood instantly why she was there precisely. He would not have needed to say anything, but he decided to speak up for the servant girl. He would not have her think that he was dishonouring Tristram's Heroine.

"Caught up a bit more of this jigsaw puzzle we're trying to figure out?", he asked.

"Maybe."

He nodded, and opened the door so she could come in. She tried not to let her eyes wander too much to his bare chest, muscled shoulders and perfectly defined abdominals. It was impossible to mistake his compact, muscled body even under the gothic plate he was now wearing, but it was the first time she saw him chest naked. He sat on his bed, looking at her sitting at the desk in front of him, waiting for her to say what she came to say.

"Do you think Diablo could be influencing us?", she asked.

He tilted his head. "How?", he wondered.

"Being the Lord of Terror… terrifying us," she answered.

He considered, and she saw his shoulders relax as he sighed. "It is very possible, Liria."

There, he had called her name again. She instantly felt like a different person to him, not his travelling companion, with whom he boasted, joked and sliced demons, but… a closer friend.

"But I am not a coward," he added. "Neither are you."

She nodded. She was still trying to unwrap herself from her confusion of character at him suddenly calling her by her name.

"Shurvi," she said finally.

She saw the same exact thing happen to him suddenly. She had shed the usual battle nickname, and was addressing the person, not the warrior. As a warrior, he could easily banter with her all day-long, and fight besides her, and defend her life and trust her with his. As a person, he was a lot more confused this night, with her in his room, and he felt very naked, all of a sudden, to be bare chest before her.

They looked at each other in silence. Much passed between the two, about how they hoped to survive and feared what would happen to Tristram and Khanduras and the whole of Sanctuary if they did not. After a long moment during which neither moved, Liria stood to go out, nodding to Shurvi. Again, he squeezed her shoulder. But there were no words to be said between two people who were probably walking to their deaths the next morning. He looked down at her in silence a while longer, and finally she solemnly bowed her head and went back to her room.

ooooo

The demon fell. Diablo, the dark Lord of Terror, fell, a sword through his heart and an arrow in his eye.

Shurvi stepped back, badly burned and hurt by the claws, tail and teeth of the monster. Liria was standing behind him, badly injured despite a Mana shield; her Mana shield had been burned off twice by the advocates and doom knights packed with Diablo in the chamber where he was imprisoned.

Both drank potions, so they could stand properly, and took a few seconds to catch their breath.

"The Soulstone," Liria suddenly pointed.

Shurvi looked at Diablo's forehead, and there was indeed a Soulstone through his forehead. Shurvi walked slowly forward, getting a dagger out of his belt, and dislodged the Soulstone easily.

Both watched as the body of the Prime Evil shrank back to human size, shapeshifting to a young prince.

"Albrecth," Shurvi said, seeing the boy breathe his last breath, an open wound in his chest, and an arrow in his eye.

Both warriors stood over the body for a few seconds, sad at the fate of the boy, but there was no other possible conclusion to his possession. Liria made a quick prayer, hoping he would be forgiven and allowed Paradise.

"What are we to do with the Soulstone?", Liria finally asked.

Shurvi turned to her, looking at her darkly. "Is it not obvious?", he answered. "The demon must be contained."

They knew each other very well; they were fighting together since the beginning, and they had shared much time speaking of their respective past and beliefs. They talked much without words, and right now Shurvi's face was telling her all that she needed to know.

"It is well enough contained within the Soulstone as it is!", she protested against the very idea he was proposing.

"No it is not. It corrupted Leoric and Lazarus," Shurvi answered quietly.

"And it corrupted Albrecth too, if you notice!", she answered.

Shurvi looked at her with mild disdain. "I did not think you were the kind to back up before fear or sacrifice."

She reddened. "I'm not!", she retorted angrily. "Damnit, give your brain half a workout as that of your muscles and think for a while, Burnt head! It's a Soulstone! It's already influencing you! You can't possibly resist it on the long term if it's planted in your forehead! It's a lot easier to resist in the current form."

Shurvi thought for a while, considering her words. She was not stupid and, when it came to magic, she was often right. But he could not conceive that the Soulstone could be kept free.

"Then what do you propose to do with it, Red head?", he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Let's take it to Cain. He will surely know what to do with it."

Shurvi bristled. She was observing him, and in that instant she realized how much she had been right without knowing it seconds earlier. The stone _was _influencing him, only much more strongly than she had thought possible. The man in front of her was not the man she had fought with during the last weeks. A cold apprehension crawled into the pit of her stomach.

"We should not be taking it to the surface," Shurvi stated, "much less let anyone else know of its existence. It could bring the attention of evil."

"Very logical, Burnt head, but wrong," she answered calmly. She nervously wondered if the Soulstone was just beginning to influence him, or if the corruption had started earlier, along with the fear Diablo had forced onto them. She considered her next words carefully; it was not the time to make a mistake. So much was at stake. "Cain is the last of the Horadrim, he already knows of its existence. And moreover, he is the last descendant of those that bound the Three brothers. He ought to know what to do with a Soulstone."

Shurvi hesitated yet, and she feared her words would not be enough.

"I'm not sure. Something is wrong," Shurvi said.

She did not dare to repeat that the stone was influencing him, because she saw his trust in her was diminishing rapidly. If trust was beyond his grasp now that he was corrupted by the demon's essence, maybe he still remembered friendship.

"Please, Shurvi," she almost never used his real name. She saw with relief that it did catch his attention. "Let's just ask Cain's opinion. Please." She was not begging. She was asking her friend, earnestly, to consider her opinion.

There was a fleeting moment of silence. But then, he took a step backwards. "No," he answered. "You're a coward, and you would flee the last responsibility that comes with facing Diablo."

She raised her bow. "No," she said firmly. "I am trying to knock some sense into you, Burnt head."

"Do not threaten me," he retorted, not moving, his voice low and with a vicious tone.

She did not lower her bow, but her face softened. "I'm not. Please, Shurvi. Don't." Then she paused. If friendship was also beyond his grasp… there was only one thing left she could call to. Her throat was painfully tight when she said: "Shurvi, please… I love you."

This unsettled the warrior. He looked at her for many seconds, trying to read the look on her face, and she had immense hope that his heart would be touched. She hoped he would know it was true, and that the human in him would win over the demon's essence. But finally his features hardened, and he declared: "You are trying to trick me. I will not listen to you."

Horror settled in her heart. But she was a warrior, and she was prepared to do what she must, despite Shurvi's statement of the opposite. It occurred to her rather too late that maybe _this_ was a type of argument he would have more readily accepted, but she had made her gamble already. So she faced the consequences. She bended her bow, and shot through his hand as he was preparing to plant the Soulstone in his forehead. He grunted in pain, not letting go of the Soulstone, and turned to her, his dagger still in hand, lifting it.

He wore a full plate mail and a helmet, and she had hardly any target at all for arrows. She aimed through the coming tears blurring her vision, seeing the dagger come swiftly, and shot.

The arrow lodged itself in his neck, and his dagger pierced her armour and plunged straight into her heart. She gasped for air, pain shooting throughout all her body, as her knees were failing her. The arrow had missed the carotid and jugular, by curious circumstances, although the wound was bleeding profusely. Shurvi grunted as he broke the arrow, pulled the shaft out of his neck and drank another potion.

He looked down at Liria. His heart was strangely hard and cold to see her convulsing on the ground, blood shooting from her mouth. What a pity her folly killed her. She was gasping on the floor, and he heard her murmur: "Please… no… Shurvi."

He wondered with detachment what she expected him to do now. The thought only crossed his mind, and she died. He looked upon her body a long time, a cold curiosity pushing him to wonder how things could have turned out this way. Why did she turn on him at the last minute like that? They could have been the Heroes of Tristram together. She could have found a way to contain the demon with her magic. This reminded him of the Soulstone still in his left hand, and he shrugged the matter off. He turned his eyes once more to the brilliant red stone he was holding. He sighed, thinking of what needed to be done, and planted it in his forehead.

Hellfire burned through his skull, and his vision blurred with an eerie red glow. Fresh blood flowed into his eyes, and with a start he realized he could hear the tormented whispers of the damned.

He had done what he knew must be done. The essence of Diablo was contained.

As he felt the evil of Diablo make itself known, he began praying; he was strong, he kept repeating himself, strong from his long quest, and he prayed he would be strong enough to contain him, not to let him take over and spawn legions of demons as Albrecth had.

He wondered now what he could do. He was reminded of the Far East, this mysterious land of the Horadrim, where the demons and angels had battled at first, and where there was great mystic knowledge. He thought his only hope for salvation, if not for himself, than for Sanctuary, must lay beyond the desert of Aronakh.

He turned, leaving Liria behind without a thought, and opened a town portal to go back to town.

The villagers were grave when they came to see him. He did not move right away, frozen on the threshold of the portal, trying to understand what was making this return to the surface so different from all the others. Then he realized; it was not a break in the fight when he could relax. This new fight he was just beginning was one he could never take a break from.

Cain was in front of him suddenly, and he asked:

"Liria?"

"She perished during the battle," he answered weakly. It was easy to omit the truth, and he could not possibly realize how wrong this simple statement should have sounded to his own ears.

Cain lowered his head, and put a hand on Shurvi's shoulder, as if to comfort him. The warrior did not move for a time, but then he freed himself, and was guided by the remaining villagers to the house they had decided to give him in Tristram.

And so, Shurvi's story was over. That of the Wanderer was just beginning.


End file.
